Give and Take
by SevenGate
Summary: The team heads out on a routine case, but when they discover that the victims are actually "gifts" dedicated to their youngest member, everyone gets the feeling that something is lurking the shadows. Desperate to protect Reid can the team still concentrate on solving the case or will they lose the killer...and their friend?
1. Chapter 1

It was cold in the car, but he didn't want to get out, he wanted to listen to her voice for another moment, she was being ridiculous again, but that's why he fell in love with her in the first place. "Sorry, Rob!" She said quickly, her voice sounding hollow through his cell phone's speaker, "I tried to catch you before you left, I was wondering if you could pick up some milk while you're out?"

"Sure, Babe." He answered. Rob knew this routine already. He'd head out like every other night for the last two months to get his pregnant wife a bag of chocolate pretzels, get home, and find her already sound asleep, gently snoring. Then she'd eat the whole bag between bouts of morning sickness while he's at work the next morning. He smiled slightly and, tossing his cell onto the passenger seat, he headed out , wincing at the bright bluish light from the gas station. He was in the middle of nowhere, but it was a nice night, a slight breeze ruffling his hair. As he reached for the door handle the was a sharp _click_ near his ear.

"Don't move. Don't even _breathe_."

* * *

Derek Morgan, coffee in hand, slumped down into his chair and let his head bump down on the table-top. He groaned, looking up and squinting at the circle of faces as they took their seats as well.

"You know," The young man beside him began, "Caffeine addiction is becoming more and more common. It starts as a berry, because the bean used to produce it is actually a seed that-"

"Seriously, Reid," Morgan commanded, "Enough." He sat up in his chair, struggling not to yawn as Hotch sat down at the head of the table, spreading out the latest case file for everyone to see. JJ shuffled up some of the papers, brushing a strand of golden hair from her face as she looked at them, pinning them up one at one time on the bulletin board behind her.

"AR?" Emily asked, holding up one of the pictures.

"It's on all of the victim's foreheads." Reid answered, staring intently, waiting for JJ to begin. She wasted no time launching into the briefing, pinning up three photographs.

"Three identical patterns but…three completely different victims." Morgan murmured, shifting in his chair. And he was right, They were gruesomely displayed, uncovered and right in eye sight. It was as if the killer was simply begging for his work to be seen, to be looked at. _He wants to be justified and admired, _Reid realized. They were each tied in a tight contortion, their legs curled into their chests and their arms bound under them. On the foreheads, in red ragged lines carved into the flesh were the initials AR.

"Three murders over the course of two weeks." JJ informed, "All taking place in Valeria County."

"Initials on the forehead," Hotch broke in, his eyes intense, "He wants credit for the kill, he's proud of it and believes it to be an accomplishment."

"Victim's don't seem to have an age or gender restriction, the oldest is Robert Mallort."

"He was thirty-six," Reid said, picking up on his train of thought, "But Catie Jefferson was only nineteen, and Allen Farley was just twelve."

"Closer to home this time." Emily Prentiss clarified.

"Let's get going."

* * *

He stared at it, his work, and his kill. _He'll see this, right?_ God he hoped so. What was the point if he didn't receive the gifts he left? His idol, his hero. So young, so smart. _I am the closest to being his equal._ The dark man lives an illusion. If his hero sees his victims, will he finally be seen by him? The dark man lives to challenge others, to give gifts. What a challenge, to give without being taken. He flipped out knife and knelt down beside the gnarled body, pressing the knife to it's forehead. It was a title, a gift label, letting the world know who this bloodied present was for.


	2. Chapter 2

**At last, chapter 2! :) creepy dark man's coming, run away Reid! **

The team started with a visit to the local law enforcement office, making themselves comfortable in the main conference room.

"Thanks for coming," Officer Sherman said, coming in along with a few of his coworkers. JJ moved away with him, hauling a stack of files with her. With a slight glance at her Reid focused the rest of his attention on his boss. Hotch was speaking, his words demanding that everyone listen in his usual voice of authority.

"Emily, you head to the first scene. I'll go with Officer Sherman to the second scene." He gestured thoroughly with his hands, an extra emphasis to his words, "Morgan, Reid, you take the third scene. Look for any details or trait markers. We'll touch base and keep track of similarities in the environment."

* * *

It was a long drive to the crime scene, and Reid found himself wishing he'd brought a book. Usually he'd simply review the case over and over in his head, but he had done that already, and it had begun to lose its purpose. After all, It was already like a song stuck in his head, a puzzle he'd yet to solve.

"Reid." Morgan said, breaking the muted silence. He was leaning back from the passenger seat, watching his young friend's twitching fingers.

"I don't like long car rides." He replied simply, forcing himself to remain still. That was a lie, though, because the soft lull of movement made it pleasantly easy to become lost in thought, a favorite pastime of his. He couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled over him, a prickle, almost. As the car pulled over to the side of the road he gathered his bag. Usually he would leave it at the hotel, but the case was too close to home, so instead he hauled it over his shoulder, spilling out of the SUV behind Morgan.

The body was a little ways away, surrounded vaguely by other officers, staying away ina circle as though the body were surrounded by an invisible force field. As they got closer Morgan realized it was just a wall of smell. The rotting flesh, only a day old, was reaching a putrid stench of death.

"Whole area's been searched," One of the officers said, moving towards them to walk beside Morgan, "We posted multiple units to watch in case he returns to the scene."

"He won't," Reid said simply, kneeling down beside the body," He already took what he wanted." Morgan kneeled down beside him, hoping to see what he saw, but before he could find it himself Reid pointed it out.

"A tan line," He said, gesturing to the ring finger,

"Sherman said that the last person he had called was his wife." Morgan added, "Maybe…?"

"No. It's a trophy."

"How do you know?"

"See how the knuckles are uninjured? It's as if the ring was gently taken off, while if it were an act of rage it would have been angrily pulled, leaving bruises and probably damaging the knuckle.

"So, we have a man who sees his kills as an accomplishment, taking trophies to relive the murders." Morgan reiterated, "I'll call Hotch."

* * *

"Alright. I'l look out for it then." Hotch said, "I'll meet you back at the station." He closed his phone, sliding it into his suit pocket.

"Anything new?" Officer Sherman asked, briefly glancing away from a conversation with a subordinate.

"Morgan says that the killer takes trophies," he replied, "Look for any signs of missing jewelry or accessories." Sherman paused a moment.

"The father said that when Catie left the house that afternoon she was wearing a heart shaped necklace," He said, "but there's no sign of it anywhere."

* * *

He's here, he came. It hadn't taken long, all the dark man had to do was wait. Oh, he is dark, his soul had blackened in his acts, lurking in the shadows had left him pale and ghostlike, someone to be avoided. He was so happy, everything had gone exactly right, and now he had come here, to receive his gifts. The dark man smiled at a newspaper clipping, a young man staring out unsmiling under the yellowed paper. _Spencer Reid, I'm close behind you._

He decided that he should give another gift now that his guests had arrived. He was close, but not close enough.

He had to talk to him, had to get Spencer to a place no one could interrupt them. Afterall, the Dark Man wants to know everything about him. A young hero fighting crime, working for justice. The idea of meeting the young prodigy made him tingle. The excitement gave him a familiar urge, the need to control, to use his power, to _kill._

**So, what do you think? Is the unsub's obsession a little too much? Review please! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**And here is the (real) chapter 3, hehe :) I'm taking it slow so that I don't rush the case (They have to find all the clues!) but don't worry, there will be plenty of action in chapter 4 :)**

Everyone was back at the conference room, standing even though there were plenty of chairs. It left room for pacing, which Prentiss had begun to avidly do. The pictures of the strangled victims had been taken down, thankfully, resting on the table-top.

"The unsub took a trophy at the second scene, too." She said, "Allen Farley was missing his left shoe lace." It was quiet for a moment, save for a quick scribbling from the only member who had taken his seat. Reid was furiously writing things in his notebook, every detail still fresh in his mind, engraved there forever. Morgan glanced at him, watching his fluttering hands.

"Reid?" Hotch coaxed, "You have something?" The young man scrambled out of his chair, scooping up his notebook.

"I think…so…" He said vaguely, moving a chalkboard out from the corner, "Do we have a..a map of the area?" He asked, waving his arms animatedly. He was in the Reid zone, chasing down the thought that had plagued him.

"I'll get one." JJ answered, moving off in a hurry.

"Whatcha got, Reid?" Morgan pressed, trying to help him along. JJ returned almost immediately, helping him tape the map up on the board. The crime scenes were marked in thick red marker and the station was marked with blue.

"Okay," Reid began, now that he had the attention of nearly everyone in the station. The local officers were hovering just outside the door, about to see Doctor Reid in action. "So, For a moment I was remembering the layout of the city, and then I realized that all three crime scenes were-they were…" He paused in his gush of words trying to think of a way to explain it, "Like breadcrumbs!" he realized. It was a faint idea, and he may have been jumping to conclusions, but he had the feeling he was on the right track. "At first I was thinking that he was pleasure killing, for accomplishment. But look here," he gestured to the map, running is hands down the row of scenes, "The first one was only ten miles from the station, and the other two are directly aligned." There was a spark in the air as the others caught on.

"He's trying to lead us somewhere," Hotch said, realization dawning, "like an invitation."

"But why?" Morgan asked, "The unsub's looking for a confrontation?"

"It's too soon to say, this is still only a-" He was cut of as Officer Sherman came barreling into the room.

"There's been another murder."

* * *

He was getting even closer now, all of his gifts were now perfectly laid out, leading right up to his door. The dark man hadn't realized it as first, that he had naturally begun setting the guidelines, guiding them to his home. But when he realized it just after his second kill, he was happy. If he was caught, it might be worth it, for a glimpse, a conversation with him.

The fourth kill was no accident. He patiently waited just out of sight, scarcely breathing for hours until the perfect opportunity arose.

"Charlie? Charlie hold on." The young man said, shifting his phone, "Yeah. I'll call you later, I'm out on a jog. Uh-huh, I'll swing by later." The dark man was disgusted. This young man was no older than Spencer, but he had no potential whatsoever. He clumsily slid his phone into his jacket pocket and started jogging again, then had to stop almost immediately when it bounced out and smacked to the ground. As he bent to pick it up the dark man kept out of the bushes, gun in hand.

The boy leaned back upright and just as his eyes flicked up the dark man swung, the butt of the gun hitting the boy's head with a wet thump. He sagged to the ground, clutching his head and moaning. Before the initial shock wore off the dark man came in again, swinging until he was just barely able to move, then he dropped the gun and used his hands.

* * *

"Any ID yet on the victim?" Hotch asked, watching the Reid inspect the body. Morgan had gone off with Prentiss to talk to the woman who found the body, crying by the SUV.

"Nothing yet, still no missing persons reports." Officer Sherman answered, looking at the scene files.

"Hotch?" Reid called. The older man leaned down, giving his distinctive stare. He was holding two slender fingers up, a small glimmering shard clutched between them.

"It looks like part of a cell phone screen." He said, closely eyeing it. He was glad he had cut his hair, the long curling locks had always been falling over his face. The thick plastic shard had already been tainted by his touch, yet he dropped it in the evidence bag Officer Sherman held out to him.

"So what does this mean?" Morgan asked, coming up beside Hotch, frowning.

"It means we're going to have to find a hotel."

**So...Reviews? the teams on the right track, get ready for some action!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4! **

"Fallin' asleep on me, Kid?" Morgan asked as Reid tiredly pinched the bridge of his nose. They had long since checked in to their hotel rooms and where now sitting in the hotel's restaurant, vaguely having some semblance of a conversation.

"Long night." He answered, glancing up at the clock on the wall. He had spent hours pouring over his notes from the scene and just as he set them aside and began to crawl into bed Morgan called him.

"So," Reid coaxed, "I have a feeling that you may not have called me here just to talk about the local hot spots." In answer Morgan took a big sip of his drink. Reid waited patiently, feeling a little strange watching his coworker beat around the bush.

"Who do you think the Unsub's trying to lead around?" He finally said, his eyes flicking up to his young friend.

"Anyone, really." Reid said, "Delusions of accomplishment keyed with narcissistic behavior. He wants as many people as possible to see…whatever's at the end of the trail." Morgan's brows furrowed together thoughtfully.

"Try to get some shut eye." He finally said, standing up and leaving the money on the table before disappearing out the door. Reid stared after him for a moment before glancing at the table. He had left another money for Reid's food as well, so he pulled out a few more dollars for the tip before turning and leaving, waving at the waitress as she came out the back room.

The trek back to the room eerily silent, the elevator and hallways all empty. Reid tightened his grip on the strap of his shoulder bag, digging out his room key but he dropped it as soon as he looked up.

His door was open, propped a crack with the side lock. Reid flipped his back against the wall, carefully remembering Morgan's instructions on entering a possibly hostile situation. Should I go in? Should I call Hotch? Reid was conflicted but he found his hand moving to push the door open without his permission.

He glided along the wall before realizing that the room was empty. He checked his other bag, his notebook, everything was still perfectly untouched. He glanced over the table tops and the desk and noticed that the hotel's notepad had been moved, the pen resting beside it Reid blinked and saw that a message had been written on it.

**Welcome.**

* * *

"You didn't see anything?" Morgan asked for the third time, "Nothing at all! Then how did he get in!" The woman at the desk was shaking her head, nearly in tears.

"Morgan." Reid called, trying to save the poor girl. Hotch was standing with him, asking questions. Did you see anyone suspicious? Talk to anyone? No, he was trained to look out for that sort of thing, how could he not notice?

"I should have gone with him." Morgan grinded, finally leaving the girl to fall apart in peace.

"What good would that have done? No one was in my room."

"What if someone had been? You should have called me!" Reid wanted to say that calling him would have alerted whoever was inside, but he stayed silent, waiting for Morgan to cool off. Hotch chose this convenient moment to turn away and pull out his phone, putting it to his ear and wandering a little ways away.

"I should've…"

"Should've what, Morgan? Don't worry about the things you couldn't have changed." Morgan sighed in resignation, his shoulders slumping.

"Come on," Hotch said, turning back to them, "Let's head back into the station."

* * *

The team was huddled around the conference room table, Reid's message resting on the table top.

"We need surveillance tapes, any footage we can get on the hotel." Hotch commanded, "I want to see every person who went in that door."

"I'll call Garcia." Morgan answered, moving into the main office so as not to disturb the team.

"Queenly Queen of awesomeness, how may I be of service?" Garcia declared playfully.

"Hey baby, we need some surveillance footage on the Parkside Hotel."

"That's all?" Garcia joked, grinning on the other end of the line, "No challenge at all." Morgan chuckled, leaning against the wall. Garcia rapidly tapped her keyboard, periodically glancing at the screen.

"It's streaming," she said, "JJ can pull it up on her laptop."

"Thanks, Baby girl." He said with a broad smile.

"My pleasure, say hello to my other darlings."

"Will do."

**Next chapter: The team tries to confront the unsub! Please review, let me know how I'm doing.**


End file.
